


Knowing and Feeling

by AlexandrianSight



Series: the devil's got nothing on me [1]
Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7926112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexandrianSight/pseuds/AlexandrianSight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> "Caroline had no interest in being beautiful. She wanted to learn, to be educated, to work." </i>
</p><p>Young, hopeful Caroline doesn't have much experience in worldly matters. Her parents want her to fall in love and get married (preferably to a rich man), but she wants to go to school and get a job. When plans fall through, she applies for a job at Aperture Science Innovators.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Knowing

**Author's Note:**

> Okiedokie so this is what I wrote about a month ago based on an idea I had for Old Aperture's timeline. I'm not entirely sure if I'll make it into a series like Killing You is Hard because the plotline I have in mind is a lot different from the usual fics surrounding Caroline and Cave Johnson and I'm not sure how well it'd be received. 
> 
> *picks up ukulele* anyways here's Wonderwall.

Caroline always knew she was pretty.

She could see it in the eyes of the boys who flirted with her, hear it in the voices of the girls who lashed out in jealousy. She could taste it in the ice cream that her dates would buy her, smell it in the flowers they gifted her.

But she never  _ felt  _ pretty.

She wore makeup because it was fun. A relaxing morning routine to help her start her day. She knew the best ways to accentuate her features and disguise any blemishes, but she didn’t care. She never cared if she was beautiful.

She cared more about her ability, what she could  _ do _ . Caroline had no interest in being beautiful. She wanted to learn, to be educated, to work. She excelled in school, earning the top grades in her class. Jealous mouths started rumors that she was sleeping with a teacher, or even the principal herself. She turned a deaf ear to the rumors, knowing that reacting would only feed the fire. Instead, she continued studying, continued excelling. 

When she was sixteen, she got a part-time job at the library, helping to organize the stacks of volumes. She spent her days dashing around, learning the feel of each book as she returned it to its rightful spot, memorizing the placement of each one.

It was in that library that Caroline fell in love.

Not with a man, no. She fell in love with science. Chemistry, physics, herpetology - it didn’t matter. When she had spare time, she could always be found in the 500s section, sitting on the floor and poring over whatever book had captured her attention that day. The librarian, a kind old maid, once made the joke that one day Caroline would marry science.

* * *

 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

Caroline had heard it before, many times. She’d learned that men would use this line no matter where she was. They would say this whether she was at the movies or the park. Which is why one day, when she heard this while sitting on the floor amongst stacks of books that she was organizing, she merely glanced up at the intruder before returning to work.

She’d heard it all before. Boys would approach her at work and try to flirt. They’d ask why she was working amongst dusty old books when a pretty face like hers could probably make her fair share in tips as a waitress. They’d ask her out on the town, an offer to sweep her off her feet and rescue her from this place that turned pretty girls into spinsters.

She responded to this one like she did to the others. A dazzling smile and a few quick, chipper sentences that left them reeling as she stood and moved around them, making sure to walk with light steps as she got away as quickly as possible. They were always left in awe for a few moments before realizing she’d just dismissed them. But by that time, she was lost among the books.

Caroline didn’t feel pretty when she did this. Using her words and charm to get away from men was just something she’d picked up. A survival skill, if you must.

She knew she was pretty, but she never  _ felt _ pretty. 

She didn’t feel pretty when she applied for college. Her father yelled at her when he found out, especially when she said that she’d applied for a science major. Her parents held the same beliefs as everyone else in their small town. They wanted her to marry a rich man. They didn’t want to pay for college when they were certain she would just drop out once she fell in love. The girls in her town only went to college to get their “MRS” degree. If they got a job, it was temporary. Something to do before getting married and starting a family. Even during the War, the town had refused to be swept up in the progressive idea of women joining the workforce.

She didn’t feel pretty when she was rejected. The colleges claimed that she was unqualified for a science major, but she knew the real reason. She knew she should’ve applied out of state, to bigger colleges that were more progressive. But it was too late.

She didn’t feel pretty when she graduated high school, her face made up and her hair curled. Her classmates gaped when she walked past them, in awe of how the ill-fitting robe somehow flattered her. She didn’t feel pretty when she received her diploma, but she did feel something better. She felt accomplished. She saw her parents in the crowd, her mother smiling through tears and her father clapping. For a few seconds, she felt hopeful about her future. Maybe they would change their minds, maybe they would let her retry, let her try for other colleges. 

Maybe it would be okay.

She didn’t feel pretty when she ran away from home. She brought only what she could fit in her suitcase, wearing her winter coat and rain boots even though it was a dry summer evening. She wouldn’t have been able to bring them otherwise; they didn’t fit in her suitcase. She only had the money she’d saved up from her job, which wasn’t much. But she would make it work. She had to. 

She didn’t feel pretty when she applied for a job at Aperture Science Innovators. She didn’t feel pretty two days later when she marched right into Cave Johnson’s office and stuck out her hand, demanding a handshake. She’d read about his successes in the papers, and when she’d heard rumors of an open position as his assistant, she wasted no time in submitting an application.

Mr. Johnson initially just stared at her, as if her hand was holding some gross, alien object that she was expecting him to take. She was starting to realize the idiocy of her actions, starting to feel a slight blush creep onto her cheeks, when he grinned and shook her hand. 

“I like your tenacity, Miss,” her future boss had said. By the end of the interview, she was hired, starting that day. 

Her first task was to throw away all of the other applications. 

 

Caroline had settled into her job quickly. Her dazzling smile and chipper tone were used all day every day, to the point where sometimes she wondered if that was really how she talked. She respected Mr. Johnson for his success and was immensely grateful for the opportunity she had in working for him. She may not be a scientist, but this was close enough.

For now.

Caroline ignored the stares of the men she worked with as they eyed her skirt or chest. She lied to herself, told herself they weren’t staring. These were men of science, not the boys from her hometown. Things were different here. She gave them genuine smiles and won them over with her sweet personality. The lab boys applauded Cave Johnson for his decision.

She worked hard for Mr. Johnson, getting his coffee and organizing his files. She screened his phone calls and reminded him to eat his lunch because he was an important man, and important men didn’t have time for phone calls. They didn’t have the privilege of remembering to take care of themselves. They needed someone else to do it. And that was what Caroline did.

She relished in her work, thriving in perfecting the placement of files and plaques on her boss’s desk, in doing the minuscule things that he didn’t have the time for. 

He was an important man, but also an impulsive one. There were many days when he would come marching into her office, rambling on about ideas for this and that. She quickly learned to keep a notepad on hand to write them all down. He was the idea maker, and she was the sounding board and processor, the one who would determine the actual possibility of gaining the outcomes he wanted. It was her job to write up the official reports and send them to the lab boys, telling them what their boss wanted them to work on next. 

She continued studying in her spare time, which admittedly was scarce. Caroline read at home - which was now a one-room apartment close to work. She brought books to read on her lunch break and journals to take down notes of what was interesting. Once, during her first week, Mr. Johnson had forgotten it was her lunch break and marched into her office. She was sitting at her desk with a textbook open in front of her, eating pasta with her left hand and taking notes with her right. 

She looked up, a noodle hanging out of her mouth, as her boss took in the scene. 

He checked his watch before crossing his arms, “I forgot it was your lunch break. So, what’s got you so hooked that you’re reading it here? I thought  _ I _ was the workaholic in these parts.”

Blushing, Caroline quickly slurped down the noodle and gestured to the textbook. “It’s a book on entomology I picked up from the library last week.”

“Entomology?”

“You know...bugs,” She said awkwardly.

“I know what entomology is, Caroline,” Mr. Johnson said. He narrowed his eyes, studying her. “You’re nineteen, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So you haven’t been to college,” He muttered to himself. Her brow furrowed - he’d known that already. It was discussed during her interview and it had been on her application.

He was starting to fully understand why she worked here. She’d stated in her interview that she loved science, but at the time he didn’t know whether to believe her or write it off as her trying to look more appealing as an applicant. Assistants and secretaries were temporary; they only stayed in their jobs until they got married. But he remembered how she'd spoken during her interview. She'd talked about long-term plans and hopes for the company. She wasn't planning on being temporary.

He looked at his assistant, his young, intelligent assistant whom he barely knew anything about, and slowly figured out part of her story. She was doing the best she could, working in a job closest to what she wanted, and learning as much as she could in her free time. She wasn’t in college - for reasons he didn’t know - but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from learning.

He gestured to the book. “What’s that section about?”

“Oh, uhm,” Caroline was a bit flustered, not used to being asked about what she was studying. “This chapter is primarily focused on mantises. They can rotate their heads one hundred and eighty degrees, and they strike their prey with their fore legs - which are spiked - in order to capture and kill them at the same time-” she spoke rapidly, becoming more animated and abandoning her chipper tone for real excitement, which didn’t go unnoticed by her boss. She caught herself, though, and quickly ended her speech with a “sir.”

“Interesting,” He murmured thoughtfully. He clapped his hands together. “I have an idea- No, not an experiment,” He said when she started reaching for her notepad. “I want weekly reports from you on whatever science stuff you happen to be studying - it doesn’t matter to me. No limitations on these, they can be as long or as short as you want. Since you’re studying anyway, why not share your findings with me so we can use it for the company? Who knows, maybe something you read in one of those books of yours will lead to our next big invention.”

Caroline beamed. “Y-yes sir, Mr. Johnson,” she said.

He turned to walk out of her office. “Enjoy the rest of your lunch break, Caroline,” he said over his shoulder.

Caroline grinned as she returned to her notes. Her boss was a smart man, but she was a smart woman, and she knew what he was doing. Though he claimed it was for the company, what he was really doing was giving Caroline an excuse - no - a  _ reason _ to continue her studying. A purpose other than just satisfying her curiosity and yearning for education. She fervently took notes on praying mantises, her lunch forgotten.

* * *

 

For a while, she was able to hold onto the hope that things would be different here, that she could be seen as more than just her pretty face. She wasn’t just any assistant, after all. She was  _ Cave Johnson’s _ assistant, and that had to garner her  _ some _ sort of respect. She’d managed to last a couple of months under this delusion, primarily due to her general avoidance of the men she worked with. 

She heard the comments of the men, of course. Their conversations that would only cease when they heard the click of her heels approach. She knew the rumors that flew around about her and her boss. She turned a deaf ear to them, just like she had back in high school. 

That changed one day, though, when she was in the break room getting her boss a refill on his coffee, and a man spoke up behind her.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?”

Caroline froze as, in that moment, as she heard that line, she realized that this place was no different than the town she’d left. That nothing would prevent the men here from objectifying her just like the boys back home. As she heard that awful line that had been used on her hundreds of times, Caroline felt something in her start to shift.

She turned, the steaming mug in her hands, to face the voice, only to find that the owner had become uncomfortably close. She froze again, his face inches from hers, close enough for her to smell his stale coffee breath and cheap cologne.

She smiled, but it wasn’t her dazzling smile, the one she used to trick the boys back home into thinking she was interested. No, it was an uncomfortable smile, an embarrassed one. She smiled and averted her gaze, practically pinned against the counter with no way of escape even though the man wasn’t touching her.

He had placed his left hand on the cabinet above her and leaned against it, the other hand on the counter behind her. She blushed from discomfort. 

“A woman like you should be in movies or on magazine covers, not working in some big, scary company that’ll only weigh you down,” He said in a low voice. It was an attempt at flattery, one that wouldn’t work on her in a million years. 

“With that in mind,” He continued, reaching up with his right hand to tuck a hair behind her ear, “What could possibly be keeping you here? Got a boyfriend in town?”

She laughed nervously, unsure of how to escape. Still, she smiled and laughed, as it was the only defense she knew. She needed a different tactic, but she had none.

“M-Mr. Johnson needs his coffee,” she said, hoping that distracting the man would allow her a chance to escape. No dice.

“Well, then,” He said, taking her response as ‘No, I'm quite single!’ His hand was wandering down the length of her arm, cupping her elbow. “What keeps you here? Some sort of inducement? Maybe something a little...extra from Mr. Johnson?” 

Caroline gasped in shock, and he took the opportunity to grab her face with his left hand and pull her in for a kiss. He was slobbery and greedy, forcing his tongue into her mouth and moving his hand from her face to the back of her head, preventing her from pulling away. 

She was frozen, unable to do or say anything As his hand traveled upwards and towards her chest, though, she regained control of herself and tightened her grip on the mug before splashing the hot coffee on the man, who cried out in pain.

“God, stupid bitch!” He shouted as she made her escape, hurrying away. She walked quickly and with her head down, clutching the cup, letting it ground her. 

She was right. Things were different here. These men weren’t as bad as the ones she’d known in her hometown; they were worse. Those boys had been annoying, but they’d never tried anything like this, never invaded her personal space. She’d only ever had to deal with the stammering compliments of boys who hoped they looked cooler than they were. Now she was dealing with men who knew their place in the world, who had no reservations about pursuing a woman. Caroline was caught off guard, and she  _ hated  _ it.

She scurried back to Mr. Johnson’s office and silently placed the cup on his desk, relieved that he wasn’t fully paying attention. She turned to leave when his voice stopped her.

“Caroline.”

She turned back around with a smile, hoping her stress wasn’t showing in her expression.

“There’s no coffee in here.”

She blushed a deep scarlet. Of course there wasn’t any coffee. She hastened to think of an excuse. “Oh, uhm, there w-wasn’t any coffee left in the pot.”

“So brew some more damn coffee, Caroline, it isn’t a difficult concept!”

She flinched at his raised voice and stammered out an apology as she reached for the cup, unsure of what to do. Maybe the man would be gone from the break room, trying to find a new shirt perhaps. All she knew for sure was that she never wanted to see him again.


	2. Feeling

Idle touches had always been a part of their routine.

In the mornings, after she delivered his cup of coffee, Mr. Johnson would place a hand on Caroline’s arm in order to prevent her from turning away immediately, in order to keep her attention as he told her what else he needed. His hand would stay there the whole time he was talking, and neither of them would really notice.

Sometimes when they were walking through the facility, he would take her elbow and pull her into a semi-huddle as he muttered this or that regarding a company secret or a potential lawsuit, not wanting untrusted ears to hear what he was saying. Within a week of her work he was doing this, already trusting Caroline with secrets no one else knew.

It worked both ways, too. Whenever he would move to get up from his chair to get something, Caroline would place a hand on his shoulder. “I can get it, sir,” she would say as she turned on her heel and stepped out of the room to retrieve whatever it was.

Whenever he would return from one of his routine raging stomps around the labs, she would calmly fix his tie that had gone askew in his excitement, brushing off his shoulders and smoothing down his collar. All the while, she’d speak to him in a tranquil tone about whatever he needed to get done next, her hands keeping him in place and allowing him time to cool off and get his bearings. She wouldn’t stop fixing him up until she knew he was calm enough to continue with his day. Until the next outburst, that is.

These gestures weren’t inappropriate, and they certainly weren’t romantic. They were simple tools of communication. And they had become habit between the two.

 

Which is why he was alarmed when he placed his hand on his assistant’s arm and she yanked it out of his grip.

“ _Don’t touch me!_ ” She exclaimed, the coffee mug shaking in her hands.

Cave Johnson wasn’t an easy man to surprise, and it was even harder to scare him, but in that moment his assistant managed to do both before she realized what she’d done and she looked down at the floor with a deep blush on her face.

He studied her, now able to fully process how anxious she’d seemed a few moments ago when she’d first entered his office with the empty mug. At the time, he hadn’t noticed her shaking hands and averted gaze. He recognized them now, though, as he watched her in silence.

He was the one who was supposed to have outbursts, not her. She was supposed to be the rock. She was the backbone of this facility, the one who kept him going, kept him organized. If something had succeeded in rattling his steadfast assistant, then that was something he had to be concerned about.

Cave Johnson was a spirited man, but he wasn’t much for emotional support. It was part of why he’d never pursued any relationships with women. That, along the fact that he was too busy with work. Because of this, he wasn’t sure how to talk to his assistant about whatever was wrong.

He slowly put together whatever puzzle pieces he had. She’d returned from the break room with shaking hands and pursed lips. She’d somehow forgotten to get his coffee when she’d never forgotten anything he’d asked her to do before. She’d recoiled from his touch-

Realization hit Cave as he looked up at his assistant again. He noticed her not-quite-smoothed-down hair, how she seemed so tense she might explode. He supposed he should have known something like this would happen sooner or later - he’d hired his employees for their scientific ability, after all, not their moral compass. This fact didn’t stop him from feeling both ashamed and furious, though.

He sighed and put his head in his hand, massaging his forehead as he tried to figure out the best way to approach this. Caroline was a proud woman, he knew that. This wasn’t going to be easy.

 

Caroline was mentally kicking herself for yelling at her boss. She stood still, her eyes glued to her feet, as she waited for him to shout, to exclaim that she had no right to yell at her superior. Tears filled her eyes as she grew certain this was the end of her career at Aperture. She’d seen him fire a man for a misspelling. There was no doubt as to what would happen.

“Caroline.”

He spoke in a soft tone, one she didn’t know he was capable of using. She looked up at him in surprise, her eyes glistening.

He leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him. “Sit down.”

She did as told, sitting in the chair in front of his desk. She held the coffee cup in her lap, her shaking hands pressed against it in an attempt to hide the tremors. She stared into the empty cup instead of at her boss, who was watching her with concern.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his question sounding more like a statement.

Caroline blinked back her tears. She wouldn’t cry. Mr. Johnson didn’t have time for tears, and neither did she. She stared resolutely into the cup as she tried to figure out how to answer. What could she say? That she should’ve gone to school? That she should’ve figured out how to pay for it on her own, so she could become fully qualified and have an actual career in the field she loved? Rather than some shadow position where she merely watched others do the work she wanted to do?

What could she say? That his mug was empty because she had dumped all of the hot coffee on her attacker? Her tears threatened to come back as she recalled it, and she tightened her grip on the mug.

Caroline was scared. For once in her life, she had been really, truly scared. She had felt trapped, and she hadn’t been able to help herself, to talk herself out of the situation like she always did. She hated that feeling. She hated that man. She even hated herself for not being strong enough.

Her boss watched her, slowly realizing she wasn’t going to speak. He sighed.

“You know,” He said, standing, his voice starting to lose the gentle tone. “I didn’t hire these men for their ethics, I hired them for science. These men, they think they can get away with anything. They think they’re the kings of the hill. They’re wrong, of course. And keep in mind, if you ever need to report anything-”

“No,” She interrupted.

He stopped and eyed Caroline, who was still staring at the mug.

“No?” He repeated. “You have _nothing_ to report?”

She shook her head, not meeting his gaze.

“Look at me, Caroline,” He said curtly.

She looked up, only able to meet his eyes for a second before she looked away again, off to the side somewhere. She wasn’t going to talk, and he knew it. He watched her for a few moments before speaking again.

“Do you know why I hired you, Caroline?” He asked.

She finally looked up at him, distracted by the question. “I-I was resolute,” She said. “I was determined to become your assistant, and you liked that.”

Mr. Johnson shook his head. “That was only part of it,” He said, stopping behind his desk and leaning against his chair. “There’s no easy way to tell you that you’re...underqualified for the job. All you have is a diploma from a no-name high school in a town no one would ever think twice about. You haven’t been to any technical school for this kind of job. To be honest, if you hadn’t grabbed my attention by marching through that door like you did, I probably wouldn’t know you existed.” He started pacing again, his back to her. “You would be just another name on an application that a different, more qualified person would have thrown away on their first day.”

“Then why did you hire me?” She asked, her tone neutral. He turned to see that she was looking directly at him now, staring with a cold expression as she waited for an answer.

“Because,” He said before taking a breath. “You have what few other people have in this field. You have _passion_ .” He clenched his fist as he said this. “The lab boys? They couldn’t care less about their jobs or what they might discover. All they care about is the numbers on their paychecks. But you and me?” He stopped behind his desk again, planting both hands on it and leaning towards her. “We _care_ about the science. Without my brilliant ideas, Aperture would have started and ended with shower curtains, and where would the world be today without our inventions?”

Caroline looked away. She didn’t want to admit that the world would probably be better off without their inventions. Well, most of them.

Her boss continued. “I don’t want to insult you, but at times it seems like I see the potential in you more than you see it yourself. You’re an intelligent woman, and I’d be lying if I said you weren’t beautiful, but you’re _more_ than that. You’re strong. You’re passionate. You’re bold. And most importantly, you’re cunning and manipulative.”

Caroline looked up in surprise at the last two descriptions, causing her boss to laugh heartily.

“What? You think I didn’t notice? You’re a master manipulator!” His voice regained its usual sharp tone. “I’ve seen you do it, too. Always sidestepping the lab boys with a dazzling smile and a few kind words before shutting them down. Answering phone calls from angry family members or lawyers who somehow never call back. You even know how to organize everything in my office so that it makes me look as important as I am!”

Caroline stood, her brow furrowed in confusion. “So you’re saying...you hired me...because I’m manipulative?”

Her boss waved his hand in the air as if to dispel her words. “I hired you because you have _potential_. Trust me on this, you've got a big future ahead of you.”

He walked over to her and hesitantly placed his hands on her shoulders. When she didn't recoil, he started brushing them off in the same way she always did for him. He straightened her sleeves and fixed her collar. He reached up to fix her hair but hesitated, unsure how she would react. When she gave no indication that she was still upset, he smoothed down a patch of hair on the back of her head. He was awkward and heavy-handed, unused to being the one to fix others, but she still appreciated the gesture. He planted his hands on her shoulders again and looked her in the eye.

“You're not the best person for this job,” he said. “You're the _only_ one.”

 

Caroline had always known she was pretty. All her life, she’d heard the meaningless compliments of others who only saw her pretty face, and nothing else.  Those compliments had never done anything for her. They’d never raised her self-esteem or given her reason to compete with the other girls. Her beauty was a fact, simple and true. And years of it being pointed out had made Caroline immune to any such compliment.

But for the first time, as her boss complimented her sharp wit and passion, she _felt_ pretty. She felt the empowerment that some women felt when they were told they were beautiful. For once, she felt the beauty that she possessed.

And it hadn’t come from looking in the mirror, or listening to the flowery words of suitors. It had come from someone finally telling her that she was worth more than her beauty, that she was intelligent. It had come from someone who actually believed in her, actually had faith in her.

Caroline stared at her boss as she realized that he was the first and only person who supported her. She found herself blinking back tears again as she realized this. _So this is how it feels to have someone believe in you._

As he removed his hands from her shoulders, Caroline thanked her boss and turned to leave.

“Caroline?” he said.

She turned back. “Yes, sir?”

He reached out and took the empty coffee mug out of her hands. “I don't need any more coffee for today.”

She blushed again, grateful that she didn't have to return to the break room. “Yes, sir,” she said, turning on her heel and leaving his office. He was a busy man, after all, and she didn't want to keep occupying his time.

* * *

 

The next morning, Caroline arrived at her usual time: twenty minutes earlier than everyone else. When she got to her office, though, she found a package at the door addressed to her. Inside was a coffee maker.

When she asked her boss about it, he just grunted and said that the coffee that was brewed in the break room tasted like battery acid. Any indication that he was capable of speaking as gently and kindly as he had the day before was gone. His gruff voice had returned and with it, he asked Caroline to bring him the newest lab reports.

Caroline nodded with a “Yes sir, Mr. Johnson!” as she stepped out of his office, eager as always to please her boss.

He was an important man, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read! I meant to edit and upload this chapter yesterday but I was really Not Feeling It™ so yeah.
> 
> Please tell me what you think in the comments as well as if you want me to continue this into a series-ish thing!
> 
> You can also find me at [alexandriansight.tumblr.com](alexandriansight.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the read! Chapter 2 will be up soon!
> 
> Feel free to leave any feedback in the comments (concrit is welcome)!


End file.
